I got crapped on by a bird the other day.
I was traveling with a bunch of people from work, and for some reason, I was chosen to pick up and carry the 7 pizzas from the pizza place back to the hotel for us all to eat. Luckily I had a friend come and open the doors and such, but…on the way to pick up the pizza, I stopped to read an historical sign. Bad move. The birds of the town apparently lurk above such signs, poised to bomb unsuspecting history enthusiasts with their load of disaster.
Not only did the bird manage to crap on me, it was subtle enough to crap directly on my head. First I was surprised. Then I was angry. Then I was disgusted. And then, my friend pulled a massive block of tissues from her purse and cleaned off my head. Needless to say, I showered thoroughly after that.
This wasn’t my first encounter of the droppings kind. Many years earlier, I was wearing the jacket affectionately referred to as “The Suade McQuaid” in Quincy Market in Boston, and a bird FLEW INSIDE and crapped on The Suade McQuaid. Luckily again, it was easy to clean.
One has to wonder – is this coincidence? Or did I offend a bird elder in my youth, and incur the unending wrath of birds the world over? Only time will tell…